All the Lonely People
by Soyokaze
Summary: The lives of the heroes after the facts, told from the POV of a character most of the time. Multianime, but in the Heat Guy J category for now Ch 7
1. Lucky Streak

AN: This is a multiple anime fic. But I had a dilemma and didn't know where to put it,so it will be continually category-hopping. There's a different anime for every part, so enjoy!

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All the Lonely People

1: Lucky Streak -Yu Yu Hakusho-

By Soyokaze

_I. If the Fates are not smiling, it is because Hades has stolen their souls._

It was so dark. And gloomy. And just not an all around pleasant place. But it seemed to fit the mood for our meeting. It was a rather dark, gloomy, unpleasant thing, the type of thing that makes you look back and think about things you would rather not remember. The remnants of the Tantei speaking for the first time in- oh, how many years has it been? Ten? Fifteen? I can't even remember. But all I know is this is not going to be pleasant.

I can recognize the surroundings- it's an old subway, as far as I can see. It's dark, I can hear metal clanking, rats squeaking, other nondescript noises deep in the shafts and tunnels. The ever-present drip, drip, drip of a leaky pipe somewhere is making me have to pee. Damn, why did I have to suggest this? He told me he never wanted to see me again, and I don't really want to face him. Of course, Koenma never wanted to see me again, but I still talk to him, no matter how empty and coarse our conversations are.

I can feel the tension in my muscles. My fingers are clenched so tightly together into a fist they're aching. I'm walking so rigidly I'm almost glad we're in the dark. I probably look stupider than hell.

Okay. Time to stop and see if he actually came.

"Kurama?" My voice sounded so odd. It was a very soft call, but I knew the youko's impeccable senses would pick me up. And I was right.

I could hear soft, graceful footsteps. Only Kurama can walk that way. He never could manage to look unattractive, no matter how beat up he got. His hair is still that bright, surreal red, and- oh, Kami-sama, I almost thought he'd gotten it cut, but I can see the long tail of a braid behind his back. And he's got glasses. But, of course, he looks good in them.

The main thing is an added air of dignity. Not that he wasn't dignified before, but now he just seems... so much older, even though he barely looks eighteen. A demonic side effect on his ningen body. But no one seems to notice much.

He's not looking at me, but he's still scowling. As much as he can scowl, anyway.

"This is not a social call, Yusuke. Just tell me what you want," he starts the conversation curtly, which is not a good sign. I hadn't expected him to be waiting with open arms, but I hadn't expected to be met so harshly. I hadn't expected him to look so hostilely feral.

"I... Well, damn it, Kurama."

Smooth, Yusuke. Real smooth.

Kurama was silent, not willing to put forth any effort and initiate anything even remotely resembling civilized conversation. The most he would do, as I stood dumb in my speechlessness, was scowl, green eyes glowing with a golden shine. Or perhaps that was just my imagination.

"Kurama, I-" the youko's feral gaze was getting to me. As I gathered myself with finality, mental pictures of his actually changing to youko and ripping me to pieces passed unpleasantly through my head. "Listen," I said, with a force that sounded like authority, but really acted to keep me from shaking, "I came to offer sincere apologies, Kurama. I know you won't accept them, but- I'm just admitting it was my fault."

His eyebrows deeply knit in his handsome forehead, as eyes I was still seeing gold in rose to meet mine. "You're damn right it was your fault."

His eyes held malice and hate. He made no attempt to hide it. And gold indeed swirled amidst the green, like silk, or sawdust. I had to collect myself again, to hold back a rising anger. I felt it in my throat, like my neck was about to snap of its own accord. "Kurama, I'm asking you to be civil. I'm asking to have a normal conversation with one of my best friends. I haven't had one of those in a long time."

"I can think of one reason," the kitsune replied testily. His ki was spreading thinly about the place. "Because the only one left spends all his time in Ningenkai. Could that be it?"

My fists clenched with embarrassment, anger, and shame. He was insisting on making this as hard as he possibly could. I don't know. Maybe I should be counting myself lucky that he WAS talking to me.

"Yeah, maybe that's it," I admitted bitterly. "But I wish we could still talk. I do. Please Kurama."

"Maybe I should do you that courtesy." Feral eyes narrowed. He looked with a hint of pity, or something like it. "Kuwabara won't even look at you."

Kuwabara. I could feel my anger rapidly rising. "You had to bring him up, didn't you?" I muttered the reply through clenched teeth. Between mine and Kuwabara's tempers, we left on very bad terms. He attempted to be forgiving, but I was a stubborn jackass. I was in shock and acting stupid, and I refused to believe my friends had died at my hand. Just as I refused his request for apology and penance. He just wanted a simple sorry.

And I couldn't give it to him.

"Yes. As I matter of fact, it was my intent from the moment I agreed to this little reunion." His gaze left me again. The air trembled as he controlled his ki, which he hadn't realized was so mismanaged previously. "I had to remind you what a service I'm doing you."

That hit me. He pushed just the right button. The youko had probably aimed to infuriate me anyway. "Damn it, Kurama! What the hell do you want from me? I come back, begging for a little damn forgiveness, and you shut me out."

"Where was your begging and pleading when we wanted it, Yusuke? Let me ask you that," he countered. I heard the rip of fabric as he clenched fists in his pockets. "You were so sure that something had happened, something else had happened."

I was in shock. I was in shock. That was the story I had used, time and time again, to justify my actions, to myself and others. I wouldn't use it now.

"Kurama, I don't- What do you want me to say now? Please, tell me what you want me to say. I'll say it. Just give me a clue." I marched up to him expectantly, knowing subconsciously that I was pushing my luck. Somehow, I didn't care. "Is it sorry? Do you just want a sincere apology? I've given you that many times, Kurama. Do I need to get down on my damned knees and sacrifice myself to Enma Daiou? Maybe you'd feel better if I left you all alone in this damned world!"

I'd crossed the line. I'd jumped over it, turned and laughed at it. Kurama ran at me, cat-like, his eyes clearly golden now. He held my arms to the wall with surprising strength for his gentle, fragile appearance, and if I'd been thinking sanely, I'd probably have been scared of his unnaturally violent behavior. The wild gleam in his eyes seemed to increase my boldness, even with the force he pressed on me.

"Hiei died in your damned arms, Yusuke! You never told him sorry." He was seeing me now. There were no more shadows. His eyes were meeting mine, green to gold. I could see his handsome face entirely, not overcast and heavy like it usually became when I met him. I could see his fury burning like flames in his eyes. "Yukina never even knew he was her brother! She died without ever meeting him as a sibling! And Botan-" I wrenched one of one arms free and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He let all force from me. Almost went limp.

He smirked in my face.

And me? I was pissed.

"Don't talk about Botan," I furied at his smirk. "Don't even START about Botan."

"Your luck ran out, didn't it, Yusuke?" He shouted at me. It echoed thousandfold in the dark, abandoned subway, coming to my ears a million more times. I paused, wide eyes staring into his smartass face and not really seeing him.

My- my luck?

_yes yusuke your luck_

I heard an echo in my head.

_magure?!_

Kurama stared back up at me. He wasn't smiling any more. His eyes had returned to their normal vibrant green. I let go of him quickly, as if he was burning me.

_i thought you were a brilliant strategist now i find youre just a lucky fool_

I looked up at my companion again. I found myself, unconsciously, echoing his previous smirk.

"A lucky fool," I whispered into the darkness.

Kurama smirked again. "Koenma didn't know what he was getting into. He was in love with Botan. Didn't he tell you that?"

My face fell as I remembered the look on his elegant teenage face when he heard that she was dead. I hadn't thought ferrygirls could die. But Yusuke, he explained, wasn't she in her human body? He asked his Tantei almost hopefully, rising from his chair in preparation for the answer. I was forced to tell him yes. And the prince's heart was broken in two.

We fell silent. Only the echo of memories lingered in the subway now. It was as if the rotten, unforgiving sounds of the night had an inexplicable respect for our mourning. Kurama stood stock still in the dark, and maybe I was doing it too. I couldn't tell because I could feel my chest rising and falling with my breath. I reached into my pocket fluidly, as if I had never stopped moving. I fiddled around until my fingers met with a small, round, cold object, and pulled it out. The warmth of my fingers did not taint its coldness.

I smiled warmly at Kurama. For these few seconds, he was the old Kurama, the gentle Kurama, the flame-haired, mild-mannered Shuuichi Minamino, the friend I remembered before I destroyed our lives.

I tossed the object to him. He raised one hand, keeping the rest of his body stationary. I don't think he was doing it on purpose. As the little ball flew through the air, I saw it in slow motion, overlapped by blinding images. Images of my Reigan, of Yukina falling from the sky and Botan racing after her, of Hiei's last breaths as I held him and begged him not to die. One of his arms was gone, I remember that, partly because of all the blood, but his cloak was still on, despite its rips and tatters, and his katana still in its sheath. He'd never even been given a chance to prepare, even the half-second usually required for his lightning reflexes, for a fight.

He hadn't even suspected there would be one.

The object landed in the kitsune's outstretched hand. He clutched for a moment, and then his eyes widened as its iciness pricked his fingers. Quickly and gracefully, he brought it in front of him and looked at it. His other hand came to feel it, to make sure it was real. I saw some tears, saw them in the dim light, and I felt coldness around me as his ki receded.

"Mukuro gave it to me. She said you threw it at her. I thought that you-" a minute hesitation, as I changed my farewell from 'would want it back.' I didn't think that was the reason I came. "-should have it."

When he raised his tearful face again, he was returning my warm smile.

He took a step back and his face sank into darkness without a sound.

I never saw him again.


	2. Happiness

All the Lonely People

2: Happiness [08th MS team]

By Soyokaze

_II. All the lonely people/ Where do they all come from?/ All the lonely people/ Where do they all belong?_

My wife and I love to sit on this one particular park bench in the local recreational center. Just as spectators, though, we could not really do anything in the way of physical activity. We watch people as they jog or run by, watch children as they roughhouse, watch the athletes as they come to the fields to play baseball or football. It makes us so happy to know that it's all because of something we did. Our conscious actions had made both Earth and Space safe and secure for people, like those we watch, to live in. We're very proud of that.

Most people don't even know what we did. They think we are sort of strange, most of them. They see the two smiling strangers sitting on the oak wood bench with the one board missing in the back, and they look at my wife, and wonder why she has a large black patch crossing her forehead and dropping over one eye, or why the rest of that side of her face is scarred with ugly pink burns that trace her cheekbone and jaw in jagged lines. Or they look at me, and wonder, how did he lose his left leg, why does his hair have a few white stripes clashing against the midnight blackness of the rest, how did he get that long, feathery gash that runs the length of his arm, or some other such that doesn't really matter to my wife and me. I just sit happily, hanging my arm over her shoulder or rustling her silvery hair, and when the place is deserted, sometimes on Wednesdays, she'll sing a song to me, ever so softly. Sometimes she'll even sing that one that Eleador wrote, because she knows it makes me happy to hear it. She has a beautiful voice.

Our appearance doesn't really matter. We wouldn't have become soldiers if we wanted to be beautiful. I would much rather be helping people than looking good. Sure, I would have loved to have my left leg right now, but there's nothing I can do to remedy it. For my left leg, millions of people were saved. For my wife's one eye, even more men and women can still tell their loved ones that they are loved. For the pink, wrinkled scars that run down both of our bodies, that we don't bother to hide, so many children were spared from the loss of parents. Appearance means nothing in the face of those odds. The people staring at us do not understand that.

So we sit, and we smile, and we greet some people. We do not have many friends. Naturally, because of our secret, we are solitary people. What matters are those times my wife screams out in her sleep from nightmares that plague her often, and I take her in my arms, and we fall asleep with each other, or when I fall on my crutch, close to tears, and she puts my arm around her shoulder and lifts me up, or we are sitting on that park bench, and she's singing, or reading sometimes, or talking, though rarely. Or when she tells me she loves me.

I hear that Eleador has really made a name for himself on the radio. His songs really are beautiful, and I have developed a certain sense about his songs; I can tell when one is his. I made a tape of some of them and I listen to it often. He asked Karen to marry him, but she said she wanted to wait. I can understand that. She never wanted to be tied down for too long. Micheal and Bebe are still writing letters, and he's still enlisted, though he hasn't been on many other missions. Sanders is still the tough military man he always was, and hasn't changed a bit. They all still make inquiries about me, and sometimes my wife, any word from Ensign Amada yet, or about that Sakharin girl? I'm glad that they remember me, I'm glad I was a person worth remembering. I use the military's records to keep up with them, and my sources say they are all still very happy. From my observations, the people are happy. The world is happy.

My wife and I are happy.


	3. What about us?

All the Lonely People

3: What about us? [Yoroiden Samurai Troopers]

By Soyokaze

_III. We all have enough strength to bear other people's woes._

It surprises me that they still haven't finished this huge building I'm sitting in right now. Maybe this is my gift from the people, to have a perch on which to watch and protect them all. I still wish we could tell everyone about ourselves. After all that's happened, we really can't tell anyone anything.

I remember that Seiji always used to come up here.

Damn, I'm thinking about him again. I promised myself I wouldn't dwell on the past, that I wouldn't dwell over things that I had no control over. He died a long time ago.

We were all rapidly approaching the age of nineteen, as Touma would've turned that September- but he never did get to his birthday. Touma had always been warning Seiji about the dangers of his hobby that was quickly turning to profession. But anyway, Seiji had worked himself up from pit crew to pilot, and he was ecstatic at the fact that he was finally going to get to race in the big race, the championships, in fact. We were all so sure he would win. And he was winning, until the fourth lap. The car in last place, which had been going really slow the entire race, skimmed the sides of the track and just exploded instantaneously. Something had gone wrong with the oil or something, we heard. But Seiji had been rounding the corner at the wrong moment, and slammed right through the explosion. His car blew too. We ran out of the stands to try and help, but the fire fighters and such wouldn't let us through. Touma punched one of them, I recall him lashing out in tears, and I had to be the one to hold him back. We could see Seiji's form silhouetted against the wall of flames, slumped over the wheel. That was the hardest part.

They dragged him from the car, bruised, burned, and bloodied, but he was dead already. Touma was hysteric. Shin sat next to him the whole time, crying himself. I knew that Seiji and he had been very close, perhaps the closest among us. But I had never, ever seen Touma's emotions so wild, never seen him unchecked or unkempt in the least. Here's me, trying to keep myself from collapsing, and there's Touma, the strong one, punching out officials to get to Seiji. It scared me.

We found out just how bad the damage had been, just how hard the tragedy struck him, when he killed himself, three days later, right after the funeral. I won't go into how, because, in some way, that seems a thing that only Touma should be permitted to tell. Sort of a personal... experience, I guess. I dunno, that seems vulgar. He had left a note, being Touma and all, and had said that the yoroi and Arago, and Suzunagi, and now Seiji, just when we were settled down to a time of peace... it had just been too much for him.

Ryo had been so angry. Mostly because Ryo was always angry when stuff like this happened. He had yelled and screamed and shouted, and ended up crying himself to sleep. He didn't tell anyone about it, because he didn't want anyone to know, but I know, because I had been sharing the room with him. I watched him, because I knew it wouldn't be past Ryo to follow in Touma's footsteps and throw himself off a building or something. But he didn't. He dealt with it, he and Byakuen. He wouldn't talk to me, or even Shin, anymore. Shin had remained his quiet self, just helping Nasuti with things around the house, or cooking for us. Man, he was a great cook, and he loved it.

Of course, just as Ryo was getting over Touma and Seiji, Shin just disappears. We never found out what happened to him. He was just not there one morning, and he was not there the rest of the mornings from then on. No note, no foot prints, all of his things in perfect order, untouched. Just vanished.

And me and Ryo are the only ones left, and I'm seriously considering jumping off this bright red beam I'm sitting on, and ending my miserable life, but I can't just desert Ryo like that. He'd probably go nuts and murder Nasuti and Jun, and then go after Kayura and the Ma Sho, thus getting himself into a shitload of trouble, if you'll pardon my French, which is something he's incredibly adept at.

So I'll sit here and grouse and wonder, why us, when the rest of the world can have some pain too, and pretty soon I'll come to the conclusion that some people were born to handle pain. Seiji would probably agree with me (maybe he's left some of his wisdom up here for me?). After I close this journal, I'll go home and hug Nasuti, smell Shin cooking in the kitchen (though I know he isn't there), and then I'll go look for Touma, so I can steal whatever book he's reading (but of course I won't find him), then Ryo will ask me if I wanna practice and I'll say yeah, sure, and then kick his ass (though he'll deny it to Nasuti).

And at about half past ten, I'll be lying in my bed, thinking about life and wondering why I didn't kill myself today, what do I have to live for, and then I'll see some memories, probably Seiji winning his first race (Touma was giving him a piggyback ride, and his hair was really screwed up, thanks to me), or maybe Shin hitting me with his trusty wooden spoon after I stole some of his pancake batter (it really hurts when he does that), maybe I'll even pick up one of those books Touma likes so much (Touma's probably laughing right now), and after that, I'll think about me and Ryo. What about us, I'll ask myself.

Yeah. What _about_ us?


	4. A Shattered Past

All the Lonely People

4: A Shattered Past [Gundam Wing]

By Soyokaze

_IV. I dwell in possibility._

God, how can they be so calm? They're just sitting there, playing chess, when a war has just ended, a battle has just been won, and the odds are in our favor. I didn't expect to see Quatre and Trowa playing chess (I had given up playing with Trowa after he beat me seven times in a row, and I kind of expected to see Wufei playing with him, but of course Wufei is too independent for friends), and especially not after the war. Quatre was winning. That was a thing I would normally have gloated about to Trowa. But they were being way to calm.

I tried to pick up some conversation with them. Quatre offered some weak responses, and Trowa an occasional nod, or something. I wasn't even going to try Heero, he was reading something, and Wufei had that stupid exercise bar of his, one that could be used as a weapon if he were being irritated enough to think about it. I couldn't stand it. I wanted to rip out the champagne, get heaven knows how drunk and laugh till I cried, but no one seemed to be sharing my enthusiasm. Peacemillion would be landing soon, and I wanted a party partner. Whether they liked it or not.

Apparently, I hadn't kept in mind what would be happening when we exited the ship. I hadn't even thought about it. But it was horrible.

Snapping lights, microphones shoved in our faces, and not one would let us get a break from it. A ton of stupid reporters wanted to know, how did we feel about killing people? I, for one, feel pretty crappy about that and pretty glad it's over. But I didn't want to have the stupid press interviewing me, making it out to be heroic that I destroyed so many people's lives. Trowa threw his hand out in the street to stop a taxicab and we all piled in, and Wufei instructed the driver to go "anywhere but here." He, in particular, was a very pissed off individual. He kept mumbling about the disrespect the people were showing to the dead, and how they were glamorizing the entire ordeal.

I looked out the back window, and saw a few of them running after us, shouting like we could answer the questions from inside the car, while next to me Quatre and Wufei discussed, in mostly quiet, broken sentences, how outrageous it was for them to ask such horrible questions. One sentence in particular caught my attention.

"How do we feel about the war? Well, how do they think we feel about the war?" Wufei shouted, his voice gradually raising and lowering with his anger level.

Quatre replied quietly. "I wish I could shatter this past into a million pieces." I saw Trowa's head nod philosophically out of the corner of my eye.

Wufei finished the thought for him briskly. "Then we'd be able to build it all over again. In a different way."

That little tidbit of their conversation stuck in my head the whole way to where we stayed that night, a cheap little motel where no one would bother us and the rooms were sufficient. We all found a respective post in the room and relaxed in our own ways. Of course, I took a nap on the divan after a bit of reflecting on the day's events. Trowa and Quatre were sitting on the couch, reading a book from the lobby, probably because they didn't have a chess board. Heero was laying back with his legs dangling off the bed, staring at the ceiling. Wufei had gone out somewhere, probably to meditate on the balcony or to practice his kata.

I kept thinking about shattering the past, about what we could've been if war hadn't ruled our lives. It would change many things. I might still be on the streets, or maybe I'd have still found Hilde and worked on her salvage yard. I don't know that a shattered past would suit me if I couldn't meet her again. Heero, man, that's a tough one, maybe he'd be a street boy like me, or maybe he'd already be married. Maybe he'd be a successful stockbroker. Hey, he's got good instincts. Quatre would probably be climbing the ropes of his father's company, probably running something akin to a little subsidiary or something (hey, the kid's smart). Hell, his father would probably still be alive. Now, Trowa, he'd be a good spy or something, he'd work for the government. Picturing him in suit and tie is enough to make you laugh. And the shades. Gotta have the shades. As for Wufei, he would have a dojo and would be the top swordsman of his clan, like a master. And didn't he mention that he was married once before? He'd probably have a kid or two. To think about it makes me sigh mentally. And physically I guess, Heero just gave me a weird look.

A shattered past. If only. Well, I guess it's something to think about.


	5. Some Kind of Life

All the Lonely People

5: Some Kind of Life [Outlaw Star]

By Soyokaze

_V. Sometimes you have to look reality in the eye and deny it._

He looks so cute when he falls asleep at his computer. I love when he does that, only because it gives me the perfect opportunities to tickle him, thus pissing him off and watching his cute little face light up all crimson and getting to muss up his hair again.

Of course, any other Ctarl-Ctarl would've eaten him by now, probably, but he's just too adorable. I couldn't eat him if I wanted to.

Jim's elbow is hitting one of the keys and a whole lot of h's are now racing across the screen of whatever he was working on. Now I can't resist this chance, can I?

So I strut over to him, using my cat-like reflexes to make minimal sound, and dig my fingers into his ribs. He yelps, and then laughs his head off while trying to tell me to stop. He wiggles around, trying to get out of my grasp, and I give this really undignified evil laugh, like the ones on TV, as he falls out of his swivel chair. As he lays there trying to catch his breath, he looks up at me, grinning weakly, with the evil eye of a defeated, bitter man...er...boy.

"Aisha...you are a relentless bitch...and if I were a few feet taller...you'd be in trouble..." he says through gasps for breath.

"And you, James-kuuuun, are a little shit who has the misfortune to have to take it but no power to dish it out." I give him my brightest smile and take his hand, jerking him upright. He stumbles and then dusts himself off, then grimaces as he presses the delete button to erase all the troublesome h's that had accumulated on his screen.

Just then, Suzuka walks in the door, her trusty bokken at her side, and two grocery bags in her arms.

"Why, Suzu, you don't normally do the shopping. Today must be a special occasion!" I edge up to her as Jim abandons his computer and moves to help her with the bags. "Tell, quick, what've I forgotten?"

"You've forgotten nothing, Aisha. And please forgive this new and apparently inappropriate habit of attempting to help with household duties. I will see that it does not happen again," she shoves the other bag Jim hadn't taken into my hands roughly, "and for the umpteenth time, please refrain from calling me Suzu."

"But Suzu, it's such a cute nickname, and it suits you so well!" I flash a saccharine white smile. She, in contrast, frowns.

"I fail to see what is cute."

I turn to carry the bags to the kitchen. "Suzu dear, please don't make that face, it ruins your-" I never finish the crack, because at that moment, we hear a clatter from the kitchen.

Both I and Jim hurry in to dump our bags on the counter and see what in the world had happened. We come in to find a small pot of what had apparently been soup or something spread upon the floor, and Gene trying to steal a kiss from Melfina. Of course, we should've known something like that would be up. It happened almost daily.

"Aniki..." Jim begins, in a scolding tone. He hesitates for a moment, then giggles. Gene raises his eyebrows, as he was expecting a tongue lashing. "I should be calling you aniyome!" Jim declares, pointing to Melfina. I smile; it was a bit true.

Melfina blushes, while Gene just scowls. "Very funny, James."

Melfina touches his arm. "Oh, come on, Gene, it's cute."

Jim grabs a few of the groceries from the table and begins to put them up, and I follow suit. He chuckles to himself every so often. Gene leaves, grumbling a little, and Melfina cleans up her little mess. After she's done (she makes short work of it) she follows after Gene. Jim climbs up on the counter to put away some cans, when I get an epiphany.

"Jim," I begin, while stowing some flour in the pantry, "what would you call me and Suzu?"

He continues putting away the cans. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, how you call Gene aniki. What would I be?"

He pauses. "Well, you'd probably be aneki." He smiles cutely.

"Aneki? Hm... sounds good." I grin at him as I walk out of the pantry. He hops down off the counter, walking to the freezer and getting out two drinks.

"I don't know why I've never called you guys those names. I guess it just became a habit with aniki. I mean, Gene." He plops down in a seat at the round wooden table in the center of the kitchen and hands me a drink. I take it and sit next to him.

"Why do you call Gene that, Jim?" I venture.

"Because he has been that for so long. He took me in when no one else cared. He was a real brother to me." He pops open his drink, and I'm surprised the subject doesn't make him uneasy.

"Where were you before Gene met you?" I delve further.

"I lived on the streets. There were these people after my dad, and they killed my parents. But I knew who they were, so they tried to kill me so I wouldn't tell anybody. I ran from 'em for a while, but eventually I met aniki, and he took care of them for me." He grins proudly. I reach over and ruffle his hair.

"Well then, I guess aniki deserves his title, doesn't he?" Jim playfully swats me away as I bury my fingers deeper in his thick blond hair.

"Of course he does." Jim suddenly pounces on my neck and hugs me tightly. I return his embrace, a little startled. He backs off after a moment, and then grins. "So do you, aneki!"

I can't help but smile. His big blue eyes are so warm. "Thanks, otouto-kun."

He makes a cute little half-laughing noise, and then sighs, leaning back in his chair and scrunching his face up. "Boy, this is one weird family we've acquired."

"Well, it's one kind of life, Jim. There's this old Ctarl-Ctarl proverb that says, 'Each person has one destiny and is born with a unique nature of life,'" I recite proudly. "This just happens to be ours."


	6. Redemption

All the Lonely People

6: Redemption -Pretear-

By Soyokaze

_VI. At the critical juncture in all human relationships, there is only one question: what would love do now?_

It was not often that Kei came to visit Sasame in his office at the radio station. The programmer was always busy with the next game or the next mission, and never was one for coming to others; he waited for others to come to him. It was a beautiful summer day, only a very few fluffy, creme-like clouds accenting the blue sky. The sun shone down hotly on the radio headquarters, and there was something wrong with the air conditioning system on this particular date. Walking through the glass doors into the building was like walking into a sauna, so hot that Kei elected to remove his jacket and for once forego impeccable appearance in favor of comfort.

As soon as he walked in, he realized that he had no idea where he was going. There were only two people in the lobby, a receptionist and a man dressed in a dress shirt and suit pants. The man was apparently waiting for an appointment; his jacket and tie sat near him, folded neatly so as to avoid wrinkles. He did not look up as Kei entered, so the Knight of Light paid him no mind. He walked over to the receptionist as the man pulled uncomfortably at his collar, attention fixed on one of the doors at the other end of the lobby.

As he approached, the young receptionist tried to look as courteous and pleasant as she could, despite the awful circumstances under which she was working. She reached over and turned down the level of the table fan she had on her desk.

"You don't have to do that," Kei told her, and, instead of the normal cheerful dismissals, the girl looked exceptionally grateful. She turned the fan back to normal.

"Thank you," she replied sincerely. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"Yes. I would like to know where Sasame's office is, please."

The girl pursed her lips. "Mm, a fan? You know no one is allowed to see him-"

"Don't worry. I'm a friend of his."

The girl itched her chin with her long, manicured nails, looking skeptical. She moved her hand down to an intercom, pressing a few numbers and placing her finger on a call button. "Can I ask your name, sir?"

"Kei," he replied, and she pressed the call button.

"Sasame-san," she called into it.

"Yes, Inori-san?" replied Sasame's fuzzy, but still pleasant, voice. The corners of Inori's lips twitched into a small smile.

"A man named Kei is here to see you. You know him?"

There was a slight hesitation. "Yes, Inori-san. He can come up."

"Sure, Sasame-san." She released the call button, satisfied. "His office is on the third floor, three oh eight." She leaned up over the desk, pointing down the hall. "You can take the elevator at the end of that hall."

Kei bowed his head slightly. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

The woman smiled at him, twiddling her fingers in a flirtatious way to bid him good bye. She was dismayed when he just nodded his head again, walking away from the desk and putting the hand not holding his jacket on his hip as he walked down the hallway, his posture speaking of the pride he always flaunted. There was a couple waiting for the elevator, a man wearing a pair of headphones around his neck, the cord dangling, unused, and a woman with a clipboard under her arm. They cast him a curious glance as he stepped up beside them, but soon the elevator doors opened and all interest in him vanished.

Kei left them at the second floor, and stepped off the elevator at the third floor; room 308 awaited him directly at the end of the hall. On the glass window were the phrase 'Words Gate' and Sasame's name along with some other man's in smaller letters below it. Kei rapped twice on the doorframe with the back of his hand, and waited for the quiet 'come in' before twisting the bronze doorknob and entering the office.

There was a wall that extended part of the way into the office, beside which was a desk. Sasame sat at this desk, piles of envelopes of various shapes and sizes nearly obscuring him and his computer screen from view. The white shirt he usually wore over his purple sleeveless was hanging over the back of his chair. Three filing cabinets were in a row in the opposite corner of the room, on top of which were a few more paper shelves. On the wall above them, directly in the center, hung an enlarged picture that Mayune had taken for them recently. It was of all seven Knights and Himeno, Mawata, and Takako, all smiling and happy. Mawata had Shin in her arms, and the little boy was holding up one of the paper cranes Mawata had taught him to fold. Hayate had his arm unobtrusively around Himeno's shoulders, while Takako had leapt on Sasame's back and he was giving her a piggy back ride. Goh had Hajime up on his shoulders, and Mannen had puffed out his chest beside Mawata trying to look like one of the 'big boys.' He, Kei, was standing amidst the crowd, with one of his arms thrown in the air and his mouth wide open with laughter, looking just as silly as the rest of his friends. Kei had a slight regret that the only time he had ever allowed himself to be undignified, Himeno's sister had managed to catch it on film.

"Hello, Kei," Sasame greeted him with a smile, an unopened letter in his hands. "I'm glad to see you, but I won't say this isn't unexpected."

Kei stepped into the office and closed the door. Sasame gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, and Kei sat down, laying his jacket across the arm of his chair. "I had a day off today," he lied. Sasame's eyebrows rose.

"Well. That's new," he replied, seeming a little shocked at the prospect of Kei taking a vacation. "Are you feeling well?"

Kei pursed his lips. "Yes, I feel fine."

Sasame laughed softly. "I'm sorry, Kei. It slipped out."

"It's all right," the Knight of Light replied, crossing his arms.

Sasame stood. "Would you like a cup of tea, Kei?"

"Tea? With it being this hot, Sasame?"

"Iced tea."

Kei rose an eyebrow at this new development. "Oh. Well, I suppose."

Sasame rose from his desk, walking behind the obstructing wall, around which Kei could see various pieces of radio equipment that looked pretty aged, and boxes of neatly filed papers. In one miraculously clear corner of the room, a small table held a coffee pot, some paper cups, and a miniature cabinet of shelves containing some other food items. As Sasame came back around with two cups of iced tea for them, Kei pointed to the cabinet.

"Seems like you spend an awful lot of time in the office as well, Sasame," he concluded, and Sasame laughed softly.

"That's mostly for my producer and his assistants. They spend more time in here than I do, really." He handed Kei the cup and sat back down at his desk.

"Fan mail?" Kei questioned, referring to the pile of mail, much of which, the Knight of Light noticed, was a myriad of pink. Sasame looked somewhere between embarrassed and exasperated.

"Yeah. It gets to my conscience if I don't read them."

Kei's face suddenly turned very serious. That was the reason he had come to see Sasame in the first place, or at least part of it. "Mm." A pause settled between them, as Sasame sipped at his tea and Kei's eyes wandered about to rest on the picture above Sasame's head.

Everyone in that picture looked so happy.

"Sasame, how is Takako?" he asked. The Knight of Sound still smiled, but avoided his eyes.

"She's doing well. Himeno took her and enrolled her in school for this coming semester, I believe. She's very much looking forward to it." He set his tea cup on the table. "It's funny you should ask about her."

There was another hesitation. "Why?"

Sasame shook his head, dismissing the thought. "No reason."

The Knight of Light set his own paper cup next to his friend's on the desk, deciding that it was time to stop beating around the bush.

"Listen, Sasame," he began, gently, forKei had no wish for Sasame to think he was angrywith him, "there is something specific I came here to ask you."

Sasame's smile faltered somewhat as he picked up his cup again. "What is it, Kei?"

"I am not the most social person, I realize that," he said, choosing his words carefully, "and I know that everything that happened put a strain on everyone for a little while. I feel that despite everything, everyone seems to be back to their old selves." Sasame waited for him to finish patiently. "But, it feels- to me- that the relationship between you and I has changed. And not for the better."

Sasame was still avoiding his eyes. Kei leaned forward. "You are much different around me, Sasame."

A little, self-mocking smile formed on the Knight of Sound's lips. "I thought I would be of little concern to you."

Kei was aghast at this comment. "Sasame, that's ridiculous! I care about all of you, I do. I just don't show it so openly sometimes. And with what an uproar suppressed emotions caused last time," Kei added bluntly, "I figured I had better talk with you promptly."

Sasame was silent for a while, the smile lingering on his lips. "I appreciate it, Kei, and I'm sorry if I've been worrying you."

"It's all right, I just-" he paused, and then came the question he had been meaning to ask since he walked through the door into the sweltering hot radio station. He pulled at his collar. "What is wrong, Sasame? Is it something that I've done to upset you?"

"No," Sasame replied softly, shaking his head. He took a long sip of his tea, and Kei thought for a moment he wasusing the democratic trick of drinking whileformulating his words, but nothing seemed to come to him even then, for he lowered his tea and said nothing for a few moments. Kei was patient, and Sasame finally sighed. "It was just an uncomfortable subject."

Kei was confused. "What was?"

"My- my betrayal." The words made the room seem empty. "I could talk to everyone else about it. The kids forgave me without a thought, even Mannen, something I am immeasurably thankful for, and Goh and Hayate could understand my feelings. I don't know if they have really forgiven me yet, though." A beat. "Kei, I don't think with the type of sharp logic you do. I can't. I don't understand things the way you do. So... I just decided not to try."

The guilt in his voice was driving Kei up the wall. "So you were avoiding your apologies to me?"

"Basically," he replied quietly. "I'm sorry. I just can't seem to deal with these things the right way."

"Sasame, you can talk to me about things, you know."

"I know it," Sasame replied. "But- it just isn't the same unless you've felt it before. Until you've loved someone so much that it hurts you inside." His hand went to his heart. "I wanted so much to be sealed with Takako in that tree. I think now that probably would have been for the better."

Kei sat back in his chair. Sasame was right. He had not yet felt that kind of intensity; but he could try to understand it. He could. "And this is the part where I ask, 'Why would you want that?' right?" Sasame's face fell, and Kei instantly felt a tinge of regret at his words. This was the reason why Sasame had been treading so lightly around him. The Knight of Light sighed.

"I'm sorry. You're right. I don't know how you feel, and I can't say that I hope I feel it someday. It sounds... quite painful." Sasame looked up, but did not quite meet his eyes. "But what I know now, what I can apply to this situation, is that I feel a degree of love for all of you and Himeno, and Mawata, and everyone, and I do feel a bit bad when any of you are unhappy, and I try to ease the sadness as best I know how. And I did feel hurt like anyone else when you turned on us." Sasame's brow furrowed, and Kei hurriedly continued.

"What I know is that you will most likely feel that on your conscience for a while, at least until you find a way to refute it, as you did with Takako. You go about righting your wrongs without any regard for the consequences. You feel love to such a degree that it becomes painful for you, and you can't undo it with any degree of logic. I will admit that I don't understand that at this point in my life. I don't know if I can forgive you right now, because of my lack of understanding. But I do know," he added, "that I respect you. I respect you a great deal, Sasame."

Where the room was empty, Kei had filled it, and where Sasame's conscience ached, Kei had eased it. "Kei, it means a great deal to hear you say that." His tea cup made a small thud as it he placed it on the desk. "It just seemed that it would be a while before I could breach the subject with you, particularly. Sometimes, the way you spoke... I thought you would think that I was stupid, or fickle, and my running back to you, begging for forgiveness wouldn't make your impressions of me any better."

Kei rested his elbow on the arm of the chair, propping his chin on his closed fist. "Sasame, how long have I known you?"

The sudden change of topic startled Sasame briefly. "Since we were children."

"A good many years?" Sasame nodded. The Knight of Light sighed and leaned forward. "Sasame, I would never think you stupid or fickle. Those are two words none of us would use to describe you."

Sasame's eyes widened for a moment, before softening into a gaze that clearly said 'thank you, my friend.' Kei stood, taking his jacket from the arm of his chair and folding it over his arms. "As I've said, Sasame, I don't know how long it will take me to come to terms with what you've done, but I do know that I don't hate you. Please remember that, and stop being so much more subdued when I walk into a room?" Sasame nodded.

"And I want you to know," Kei continued. "I really do respect you." He bowed his head slightly to Sasame, a grin on his face. "Thank you for the tea. I have to get back to my own work now."

Sasame tilted his head, wearing a smile identical to his comrade's. "I thought you had the day off."

"Don't be silly, Sasame," Kei replied, his hand twisting the knob and opening the glass-paneled door. "I never have a day off."

And with that he shut the door softly. Sasame's features softened, and he felt that Kei had just given him a great gift, lifted a burden of enormous weight from him with only a few well-spoken words. Kei, despite his cold logic and overwhelming intelligence, had a power that none of them were yet able to comprehend. But he appreciated it. He appreciated it so much.

And most of all, he respected it.

His hands went on mechanically opening envelopes and unfolding letters, although, with his headso full of new information to consider,his conscience would be burdened later by those which were only half-read.


	7. Searching for Paradise

All the Lonely People

7: Searching for Paradise -Heat Guy J-

By Soyokaze

_VII. The only true paradises are the paradises which we have lost._

Shun had been assigned to work in his old position once again. The new City Director had no one more qualified to do the job, and needed someone who would be able to rebuild the city with the efficiency with which he had cut it down. Shun Aurora most definitely was one for steady organization and prompt execution. Phia was with him every step of the way, still serving secretarial purposes, but also turning in a report of Shun's behavior to the City Director, recording every step of his progress, and making certain there was no more illegal activity in that wing of Judoh's government.

It was the end of his long day, and he had said his good-byes to Phia, whom he would never be able to repay as long as he lived, he had decided. He had been given specific living quarters by the City Director, who wanted to keep a close eye on him. Shun was only thankful that he had not been thrown in a jail cell, and he now counted every blessing he had, one of which he was afraid was gone, never to come back.

As he exited the building, jacket slung over his shoulder, he glanced up at the sunset, something he had also never taken the time to enjoy. It was a beautiful display, an explosion of warm autumn color across the darkening sky.

While he stood, watching, a familiar voice came to him from across the street. "Aurora-san!"

Shun was startled out of his reverie to see Kyoko Milchan calling to him from the other end of the crosswalk. Her cheerful face, framed in pink hair which had grown out to her shoulders, wore a smile, and a hand was raised high in the air, waving. He smiled uncertainly, waiting for her to cross to him as traffic stopped. He could see her folding bicycle over her shoulder. If it was folded, that meant she had reached her destination. She had come to see him?

"Hello, Aurora-san!" she greeted him, her pink heels clicking on the hard sidewalk. "How is everything going?"

Her openly friendly manner baffled him somewhat. The last and only time she had seen him was just after his coup de etat, accompanying Daisuke to his big brother's trial. She had said a few words on his behalf that were both shaming and aiding for him. He appreciated not having her for an enemy, though. "Everything is going just fine, Kyoko-san. How are you?"

"A little bored at the moment," she replied, flicking a little lock of her longer hair out of her eyes. "I came by to see if you would consider having dinner with me tonight. No where special, just a little sandwich place that I know."

"Why, certainly, Kyoko-san," he replied, knowing his astoundment was showing on his face. When they worked together on the City Safety Management Agency, shy little Kyoko would never dream of asking her handsome, well-to-do boss out for a date. Shun supposed that his fairly recent disreputable behavior had disillusioned her a bit. He was more than happy to see a familiar face, despite the circumstances; Phia was not yet permitted to accompany him on social outings, and where Kyoko had been an annoyance before, she was now a kind of link to the life he could have had.

"Wonderful! Hold on, lemme call a taxi- or we could just walk, if you don't mind?" she turned to him, her hand moving to grasp something that was on a chain around her neck. Shun nodded.

"It's fine with me, Kyoko-san," he told her, and Kyoko smiled at him, her big, innocent eyes looking a little less than innocent, for some reason.

"I think we can drop the honorifics now, Shun," she remarked good-naturedly, beginning her walk down the street at a leisurely pace. Shun followed her obediently.

"Of course, Kyoko. How far is this place?"

-----

"So how have you been, Kyoko? I haven't heard from you in a long while," Shun asked as their waiter set his tea on the table. Kyoko took a sip of her own lemonade and smiled.

"Since our unit was dissolved, I've gone to work with the police department. They needed some secretarial services, so I volunteered." Kyoko had made a good name for herself in the city with her part in that final defiance against Shun's coup. She could have had any position she wanted, basically, and the City Director had just recently offered her a job as his personal secretary. Kyoko was considering it; the main reason she had joined the police force was to put in a good word for Edmundo, who now had his job back with a good record. Senator Noriega was the most corrupt of the politicians, and when Kyoko used Daisuke's information and revealed how Romeo was murdered as part of his conspiracy, Ken Edmundo was reinstated. "I'm being considered as the new City Director's personal secretary."

"That's an advantageous position. I wish you luck." He picked up his tea cup, blowing the steam that rose from the hot liquid. Kyoko watched him with a scrutinizing gaze, as if she were searching for something particular in his eyes.

"How have you been doing, Shun? I know your punishment must be harsh."

"It isn't that awful. I am able to do what I do best, and I spend a great deal of time with Phia." Kyoko showed no change in expression or behavior as he said the name. _So this is not a romantic endeavor_, Shun thought. "I'm watched closely, as you can imagine."

Under the table, he rolled his ankle, on which was a tight band with a tracker on it. They knew where he was at what time and what he was doing. Always.

Kyoko sipped at her lemonade again, watching the bustle of people walking back and forth across the backdrop of the city outside the window. "Yes. Phia told me all about that."

Shun raised an eyebrow. "Phia told you?"

Kyoko nodded. "Phia and I have been having lunch together for a good while, Shun. She's become a good friend of mine. I'm surprised she hasn't mentioned it to you."

But she was not. Shun could see it in her eyes. She wasn't surprised at all. "Well, Phia and I are not yet allowed to fraternize socially. I suppose she figured it was a part of that forbidden territory."

But the real reason was because Kyoko was his brother's significant other. The only tie to a sibling whom he had just learned to love fully, but whom had not visited him in any of the long weeks he had been confined to his time of compensation. Phia figured it was something he would not be glad to hear mentioned.

"Yeah. That's it." Why did he get this sneaking suspicion that Kyoko knew everything running through his mind?

The waiter came with their sandwiches and gave Kyoko a refill of lemonade, and Shun, who had suddenly felt his heart fall into his stomach, decided he was no longer hungry. The pink-haired woman across from him took a small bite of her sandwich, as if nothing odd had transpired in their exchange at all.

"Kyoko, can I ask you why you've invited me to this little dinner?" he finally ventured, all of Kyoko's elusive behavior making him believe this was an endeavor with a specific purpose. There was a pause. Kyoko put her sandwich back on its plate.

"Shun, don't you wonder at all where Daisuke is? I would've thought that would be the first question you asked me."

The blonde man was taken aback. "Of course I wonder where Daisuke is. He hasn't come to visit me once." As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Shun realized how unlike himself they sounded, and wished he could take them back.

"Then why don't you talk to Phia about him anymore?"

There was a pause. The rest of the noise and conversation in the little diner seemed distant for a moment. So this little get-together had been Phia's doing.

"Kyoko, I don't understand this at all."

"You're worried about Daisuke. You care about him a great deal. You're hurt that he hasn't come to see you like he used to." All of these were true, but Shun, ever the politician, felt deeply angry that Kyoko could see so far inside him. "Shun, why do you keep things inside, even after what happened last time?"

Shun rose an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

"Phia feels that you don't speak to her as honestly as you used to, and it worries her. She thinks the subject of Daisuke is what you're holding back." Kyoko folded her hands on the table. "Shun, she didn't tell me to do this. I'm doing it because there's something I need to tell you. Daisuke has left."

"Left?" Shun was surprised. "Which district did he go to?"

Kyoko shook her head. "No, Shun. He left Judoh just after your trial."

Shun's eyes widened. "W-what? He left the city?"

"Got the permit, hopped on his bike, and left." Shun wasn't looking at her anymore. He was focused on the tablecloth and his untouched sandwich. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He didn't tell anyone else. No one knew but me and J." Kyoko smiled softly. "Edmundo freaked out when I told him."

"But he left Judoh?" Shun repeated incredulously. "Why would he do that?"

"This city is way too small for him, Shun." There were so many unexpected things coming up in this little dinner conversation. Kyoko's eyes were turning sad, though, he noticed; not the sadness of someone leaving or passing away, but that sadness that she had not realized something as soon as she should have. "I should have known that. No matter what you think, Shun, Daisuke is a big boy. He can take care of himself. He's been doing it pretty well without your help for a long time."

This was something Shun took to heart. Daisuke was his to care for. That was a fact. "A long time? He was only employed because of me!"

Kyoko shook her head, as if he had missed something crucial. "Shun, no. You have to realize that we were slowing him down. Both of us."

"What? He-" Shun began, but then realized he had forgotten what he was going to say. So his little brother had finally left. Finally left _him_.

"You kept him in a little cage for so long, Shun. How do you think he felt?" She sighed. "And I was part of it. I didn't know it, but I was part of it." Kyoko had also realized shortly after Daisuke had left, that if she had not told him she would wait, he would not have left Judoh. She felt quite certain of that.

Shun only folded his hands on the table in front of him. He did not seem to have an inclination to speak to her any further. Kyoko took another bite of her sandwich, waiting, to see what kind of effect her words had had on him. He said nothing more to her, but was content to sit in quiet indignation while he absorbed the new information.

Kyoko sighed softly. If he was ever going to be truly rehabilitated, he needed to understand Daisuke's actions. He needed to know the reason why Daisuke saved their city, and then left it. She waited a few moments more, and then stood, pushing her chair back under the table with a soft scraping sound.

"Shun," she continued, shifting her purse strap on her shoulder, "I just think that Daisuke needs freedom from all of us, and he can't get it here. He's searching for what he's supposed to do, what is supposed to come after all that he's already done. There are bigger things then Judoh out there, and he wants them all." She straightened, looking down at the floor with glassy eyes and a little smile. "But you know, even after all that's happened, I think the thing that makes him happiest is that we're all here. We're waiting for him."

The bustle of the diner around them seemed to come back into clear focus, and again loud activity filled the air. Kyoko laid down a few bills for her meal, and then gave Shun a small nod. He looked up at her, meeting her eyes for possibly the last time; there was no telling when their paths would cross again.

"Thank you, Kyoko." And she knew he understood.

She grinned. "No problem."

The door swung shut behind her as she left the café, and Shun took up his sandwich and began eating.


End file.
